Well, it’s been a year.

And I’ve loved every moment of it.

Well, actually, I’ve mainly loved the getting nice comments bit. And the checking the site stats bit. The actual writing’s been a bit of a pain in the arse.

It’s opened some interesting doors.

It’s been dubbed ‘superbly funny – if all blogs were as good as this, we’d never switch off our computers’ by no less an authority than VNU’s Web Active magazine. Although they also made a big point of my unique monthly ‘helpful onsite archive’ of old posts, which does make one wonder how many blogs they actually read – but they’re the experts and who am I to argue?

It’s a good job everybody isn’t as funny as me, or your electricity bills would all be astronomical.

There has even been talk of a book deal.

Admittedly that talk was me in the Village Pub, banging the table and shouting at people that I should have a book deal.

Finally, I have met some fit women bloggers through it.

(Although as I am one of the leading bloggers it would be unethical and an abuse of power for me to have sex with one or all of them, even if they begged really hard).

So, all in all, a year well spent.

Where was I going with this? Oh yes – I really just wanted to thank all the readers – be you commenter, linker or lurker. I haven’t a clue who most of you are or where you come from, but it’s been such incredible fun trying to work it out using my secret charts.

This was originally a way of getting over writer’s block and easing myself back into a productive routine. I figured if I could force myself to write something interesting about nothing every day, then it’d help. Which it did. I look back at the early stuff much as William Hague must look back on that conference speech – the embarrassment comes from the fact that I thought at the time that it was any good. But at least I got something down on screen.

I also thought I might do a bit of good. Maybe I might make a few readers think a bit more about the countryside and country life.

To make you realise that ‘country dwellers’ aren’t necessarily the Countryside Alliance’s pinup honest peasant salt-of-the-earth types dependent for their livelihood upon centuries of tradition. Nor are they the risible stereotypes of the Vicar of Dibley et al. No – they are perfectly normal people like all of you are, who just happen to dwell in a rural area and talk to the rabbits and hide behind their secret bookcase whilst living next door to a man who has converted his dining room into a pub.

Now I need to spend a bit more time doing stuff that I’m – like – paid for. I’m also going to be spending a bit more time away from the Norfolk Village.

So for a while I won’t be writing every day. Just some days.

The alternative would be to bash out hurried but tired old rubbish, complacent in the comfort that enough people would consume it uncritically, whilst gradually losing the will to drag myself out of the relentlessly downward spiral of creative torpor. And I have no wish to become the ‘Never Mind The Buzzcocks’ of blog.

So don’t go away.

And thanks.

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